


Snow Dance

by OfficerAerynSun



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Fluff, just pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7713487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficerAerynSun/pseuds/OfficerAerynSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She loves to watch the seasons change. But none of it compares to her first glimpse of snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Dance

**Author's Note:**

> General disclaimers apply. I don't own Stargate (obviously) or the characters (sadly). This is un-beta'd so all mistakes/typos are mine.
> 
> I use the Sha'uri spelling for the simple reason that I like it better. :D
> 
> This doesn't fall anywhere specific in terms of canon. It's just set in a vague, fluff-filled universe where she doesn't die. The rest is up to you.

She looked forward to each change in season before it happened. First, the mild glow of summer faded into the cool bite of autumn. _That_ had been spectacular enough. Vibrant greens unlike anything she’d ever seen melted into crisp oranges and reds. Leaves floated down from the trees and crunched beneath her feet. She had lamented more than once that the base was so deep underground, windowless and cold. She wanted to taste the changes in the air and feel the strange winds blowing through her hair.

Back on Abydos, such things did not happen. Scorching desert temperatures grew slightly more bearable. The sun clouded over and sandstorms blew more frequently in the vast sandscape beyond Nagada’s walls. But nothing as dramatic this. Earth had many wonders – but one of the most spectacular was the way the world lived and died and resurrected over and over before her people’s eyes. Sha’uri knew she would never grow tired of it.

But one frosty morning in November – the first she’d spent this side of the Stargate – a new magic awaited her.

She woke early that morning, as had become routine. Already she could smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen of Daniel’s – _their_ – apartment. She stretched lazily beneath the covers. The room was colder than normal and she was happy to burrow a bit deeper and doze until the alarm broke the comfortable silence. Soon enough it would be time to dress, scarf down a piece of toast and a cup of tea, and climb into her husband’s car. A new day awaited them at Stargate Command – one where any peaceful moment could become world-threatening danger without warning. But for another ten minutes, she could stay free of worry.

That is, until Daniel stomped into the room, already wide awake and fully dressed.

He was practically _drowning_ in a heavy winter coat and he had an eager smile on his lips. Sha’uri peeked at him suspiciously from one open eyelid. _That smile of his was dangerous_. One of her feet poked out from beneath the covers and he took the opportunity to grasp it gently with a gloved hand.

“Get up. I want to show you something.” He must have seen the look on her face because his smile became a grin. “Come on. You’ll like this! I promise.”

She groaned, but complied. Protesting limbs dragged themselves from the warm cocoon of their bed. She made for the bathroom, ready to brush her teeth and urge her wayward curls into _something_ manageable – but Daniel stopped her. Before she could argue, he steered her towards the closet and presented her with an extra pair of his boots and one of his old jackets. Sha’uri blinked at them. Her sleep-addled brain wasn’t quite keeping up with his plans.

“Daniel, what –?”

“Put them on. Trust me.”

She sighed, but couldn’t help the tug of a smile on her lips. His good mood was infectious. And if Daniel was excited about something – the odds were good _she_ would be too. A bit unsteady, she slipped her feet into the boots and shrugged the coat over her slim shoulders. Everything was _far_ too big. She had to roll up the sleeves several times just to free her hands and her feet slid awkwardly in the clunky boots. And when she trudged out into the front room, her husband tried to stifle a laugh. She was sure she heard him mutter something about needing to take her shopping. But before she could protest or ask any more questions, he had opened the front door and was holding his hand out to her.

Fingers entwined, they traipsed down several flights of stairs to the main floor of the apartment building. It was too early for anyone else to be up. Their commute started long before any of the other young professionals in the building and the sun had just barely peeked its head above the horizon. She liked the quiet. Earth had many charms, but she found silence was rare. This moment – just the two of them on some mysterious quest – was more valuable than she could express.

Daniel brought her hand to his lips quickly before rubbing her fingers between his. _For warmth_ , he said, pushing her gently towards the front door. She glanced back at him over her shoulder curiously. Looks like the one he was wearing were reserved for moments of profound discovery. When he finished translating an important scroll or discovered the final piece of a puzzle that had been nagging at him. Perhaps she would be more suspicious if it weren’t for the eager curiosity rising in her own chest.

And when he opened the door, she stopped dead in her tracks.

The world was white. Pure white. The cars and the rooftops and the trees were dusted in a layer of bright crystal. Their whole neighborhood glinted in the cold silence of the morning. The newly-risen sun cast a warm pink glow over the newly fallen snow. For all the world, it reminded her of the cakes she’d seen in the cafeteria at the SGC.

_Snow._

That’s what it was. She’d read about it. She’d seen it in movies and television programs. She’d seen men built from it on the Christmas cards that already filled the shops. Since setting foot on this world, she’d seen a thousand images of snow. But not a single one did it justice.

She turned her face up towards the sky and gasped. Tiny flakes of it were floating down from the heavy gray clouds above. She’d seen that on television too – and in the tiny plastic globe that sat on the desk of one of the gate technicians at the base. It looked almost like sand – the sort that fell on Abydos after a sandstorm, sparkling in the sun as it settled back to the ground. The sort that gathered in little drifts at the bases of their homes. It was so different – and yet achingly familiar.

Until it landed on her cheek.

Another gasp escaped her as the prick of cold against her skin melted and dripped like a teardrop from her face. Another and then another landed. As she stared, she could almost make out miraculous geometric patterns in the fragile flakes. She stretched out a hand. A few landed on her reddening fingertips – just long enough for her to marvel at – before they too melted and were gone.

Tears pricked at her eyes. In any other moment, she would have felt foolish at growing so emotional. _But now_ … she could not find it within herself to care. _It was one of the most wonderful things she’d ever seen_. Each flake was more perfect than the last – and yet they were as delicate as a gust of air from her lungs. And together they could cover the entire world in pure and quiet majesty.

She blinked, a hot tear mingling with the melted snow on her cheek.

“Daniel, I –” Her words caught in her throat. “It’s beautiful.”

“I know.”

His quiet voice came from beside her elbow. She hadn’t realized she’d wandered out into the courtyard, but she had. And he’d followed close behind. When she turned to look at him, she realized he hadn’t been sharing in her marvel. Daniel wasn’t looking at the snowy scene before them. He was looking at her.

A rush of affection filled her chest and the tears fell more freely. She reached for the lapel of his coat and pulled him towards her, for the first time noticing that her body was growing stiff from the cold. His warmth surrounded her as he wrapped his arms about her waist. She smiled up at him gently. His glasses were a bit foggy from the cold air and flakes of snow dusted his hair. _He_ was as beautiful as the rest of the scene.

A hand reached up to stroke his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered in her own language. It felt more intimate than English. It was _their_ language – the one that had borne the spark of their love affair, all those years ago. And this sort of moment required it.

Daniel chuckled and leaned his forehead against hers. “I can’t exactly take credit for the weather, but…. it’s the first snow of the year. I thought you should see it.” He spoke softly in Abydonian, following her lead. She’d always loved the way it sounded in his mouth – strange and yet right.

She nodded gratefully, tipping up her chin so that her lips could brush against his. “You were right. I would not change this for the world,” she murmured against his skin. A teasing grin curled gently against his mouth. “Not even for another ten minutes of sleep…”

He grinned and in a moment, their lips were pressed together in earnest. Mouths moved against each other, trapping a few snowflakes between them as they strove to get as close to one another as possible. Their warmth mingled as they clung together – the perfect balm against the icy Colorado morning.

In that moment, Sha’uri learned an important fact about Earth films: there was a very good reason the climactic lovers' embrace always happened in the snow.


End file.
